


Brief

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 06:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Rhys convinces Jack to keep his human body, when once again he starts debating cybernetic enhancements of his own.





	Brief

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble that blossomed out of a random line I wrote. Enjoy!

Getting high is as close as Jack hopes he’ll ever get to experiencing death. His heart beats faster, so fast it gets hard to feel it at all and the air feels thinner and everything starts to blur at the edges and its exhilarating when he doesn’t think about it too hard.

And it’s easy to shut off his brain when he’s snorted and sipped and sucked his way through  whichever substance fills his particular need this time around, and when Rhys is there with a warm hole to fuck and sounds to fill the silence it’s easy to lose himself in an endless cycle of baser feelings that snarl up any existential bullshit not already tramped out by the flood of  drugs pumping through his veins.

One or two orgasms later and Jack is usually flopping back against the bed, sweaty and giddy and tingling with pleasure as he grabs Rhys and hugs him to his body like a plush toy. Rhys is almost always a good sport about it, laying limp and panting himself as Jack chuffes and mumbles and nuzzles against Rhys’ hair, peppering his sweaty scalp with kisses as he fills his lungs with Rhys’ smell. Everything feels elevated as the drugs rally their way through his system.

Inevitably, however, it starts to fade. With sobriety comes the ache in his muscles and the haze in his brain and the crack of his joints that echoes within his body as he tries to relax.

“ _Nngh…_ I tell ya, that robot body can’t come fast enough.”

Rhys snorts. Jack looks down just in time to catch his boyfriend rolling his eyes.

“Oh my god, I thought we were over this.” _”_

It’s become familiar territory ever since Jack first hopped on the idea. Rhys doesn’t believe such true immortality is possible, which is pretty rich coming from a guy who’s half on his way to becoming a robot. Jack would almost rather hear anything but lecturing when he’s coming down from his high, but in this case the alternative to Rhys talking is silence, so he listens.

“Just…why would you want that? Why would you want to get rid of all this…?” Rhys glances down Jack’s body, fingers tracing over the breathing lump of his belly down to the soft jut of his hipbones and nearly making the CEO chuckle. He pats Rhys’ head, pushing it back down against his chest.

“Don’t think of it as getting rid of anything, sugar, more like  _enhancing_. Isn’t that what you did anyway? You didn’t get rid of an arm or an eye, you  _upgraded_.”

Rhys fidgets against the weight of Jack’s hand. He can feel the annoyed little puff of breath breeze through his chest hair.

“It’s different.”

“How is it different.”

“Look,” Rhys huffs, “you  _know_  me like this. You didn’t know me when I had two human eyes and a flesh hand and couldn’t call to mind the entire employee database in a nanosecond. You didn’t know me then and probably wouldn’t want to.”

“Because you were probably a dumb nerd instead of a slightly-less-dumb proto-cyborg.”

Jack’s hand falls away to Rhys’ shoulder as the young man sits up with purpose. Rhys, usually languid and lazy post-sex, straddles Jack with an odd sort of strength and pushes both hands against his chest. The pulse in Rhys’ palm flutters just above Jack’s heart like it wants to push through their mutual flesh and connect. Jack stills, his own hands crabbed as he watches Rhys swallow and scan over his lover’s body as if in a moment it might steal away into the ether.  

“This is the Jack I know.” Rhys starts so low his voice is almost a whisper though he doesn’t strain to hear it. “This is the only Jack I  _want_  to know. I don’t want you to have a body I’ve never touched before.”

Rhys slides down the CEO’s body, hands trailing behind his head and lips like he’s praying, mouth exploring flesh and setting it ablaze before his palms soothe it, pat it down and pack it like clay. Jack’s empty hands finds the sides of his pillow and he digs his fingers deep into the yielding down.

Usually, once he comes down from his high, Jack feels pretty spent, but as Rhys trails down between his legs and breathes his warm breath against Jack’s limp cock a sudden prickle stirs in his belly. Rhys sucks the tip of Jack’s dick into his mouth like he doesn’t mind how much it might sting to force another orgasm out of him, not when there’s something to prove on the line, and as Jack’s cock stiffens within the slick pressure of Rhys’ mouth and tongue and between the slight possessive pinch of his fingers against the base.

Jack arches his back as the head of his dick hits the back of Rhys’ mouth, and by the time it slides into the man’s throat Jack’s shaft is pulled like a pin-bone about to snap, and though Jack’s got little to give he still spills it all down Rhys’ throat until the man pulls away and lets the last carnal spurt splash down his chin.

Jack pants, fingers slowly unclenching from the pillow as his cock flops back against his hip, leaving a trail of Rhys’ saliva against his skin. His loins tingle, utterly spent and sobered. Jack cradles his cheek against the pillowcase as he looks down his body at Rhys, mind clear as if his lover had sucked out the last dregs of the drugs and spat them them out back over his lips.

Jeez. What a comedown.

“…You know…” Jack mumbles between panting, “you could always touch my fancy robot body  _after_ everything is said and done, right?”

Rhys puts on a playful pout, resting his cheek up against Jack’s inner thigh as he licks a spot of cum from his lip.

“Sure. But it wouldn’t be the  _same_.”

Jack chuckles hoarsely, letting his eyes slip half-shut.

“Pfft. Shows what you know. I have half a mind to switch myself out for a robot body right now without telling you, just to see if you’d notice.”

“Easy.” Rhys’ pout quirks into a teasing smirk as he rubs his cheek up towards Jack’ knee. “I’ll just suck you off again and short your systems out. Really fry your circuit boards.”

He winks his ECHOeye.

“Don’t trust your cock in a hacker’s mouth.”

“You freaky little minx,” Jack grunts, reaching down between his legs to playfully grab at Rhys’ hair. The young man snickers, shaking his head like an animal as he follows Jack’s hand, crawling back up his body to place an affectionate kiss against the CEO’s lips.

A brief make-out session soon saps the rest of Rhys’ energy, and it’s not long before he curla up against Jack’s chest and fell asleep, pink cheek pressed up against his collarbone as his hair fana out wispy against Jack’s neck. The older man turns his head, tucking his chin down to get a better look at his sleepy lover. His eyes rove over the mess of scars around the young man’s shoulder socket where bright metal meets pale skin, to the temple obscured by a shock of auburn hair to his soft pink lips jutting out slightly with each pass of sleepy, moistened breath and the dainty eyelashes practically kissing his tender cheeks in little ephemeral flutters. He sighs, the sound serene and heavy, hanging over like a shroud.

Jack never wants to experience death.

But maybe, for Rhys’ sake, he might have to.


End file.
